


She Wanted

by TriplePirouette



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Skinny!Steve, Steggy Bingo Bash 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28662381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriplePirouette/pseuds/TriplePirouette
Summary: Peggy wants to eat Skinny Steve alive.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54
Collections: Steggy Bingo Bash





	She Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Steggy bingo Bash Prompt “Oral Sex” This is explicit and graphic. No fade to black stuff here. Strictly for adults. If you are not an adult, I highly suggest you skip this particular piece of fiction. ADULTS ONLY. Also, if you are not an adult who enjoys explicit sex acts, please ALSO skip this.
> 
> This is filthy. And also the prompt comes back around, I promise, it just takes a while. I’m sorry… or you’re welcome. I’m not sure which applies.

There were two things Peggy had heard about herself floating around Camp Lehigh.

The first was that she was a prude. Regarding this, she never felt the need to correct people, and it had never come up in her presence, so she didn’t pay that one much mind.

The second was that her particular shade of red lipstick would look beautiful with her lips wrapped around the base of a soldier’s cock, gagging it down. Now this, Peggy couldn’t much argue with. She did, in part, pick her particular color because she thought it made her lips look sinfully good. It made her feel desirable and powerful in a way that had nothing to do with the men around her and everything to do with how she felt when she wore it. If the red did just happen to turn heads, that was a positive side effect. The part about gagging down cocks she could take or leave.

Oral sex never held much of a draw for her. Her experiences, giving and receiving, had been largely underwhelming when compared with actual sex and hand jobs. She thought many of the solders would be scandalized to learn that Agent Peggy Carter, strait-laced Marge, had not only slept with her fiancé before they’d been engaged, but had been quite the experimental teenager.

She’d overheard a comment or two here and there, seen the men adjust themselves as she walked by, but it never fazed her. She was here for a job, a reason, and the meatheads she trained weren’t worth her time or energy.

They could imagine her gagging on their cocks all they liked, it didn’t mean their little fantasy would ever become a reality.

The soldiers at the camp never held her interest. She could appreciate a well sculpted body and wonder what they looked like under their uniform, or imagine how strong arms might hold her up against the brick wall out behind the mess, but her own fantasies were just that: fantasies, and they often vanished once she managed to actually have a conversation with the man in question. If they could jerk off to her lips in the showers, she could damn well slip her fingers between her legs and think about them fucking her from behind under cover of the munitions building.

She had needs, and getting them met in wartime often meant she handled things herself. It was quick and efficient, and had the lovely attached perk of not getting her in trouble for fraternization. If a private starred in a fantasy here and there, it made no difference.

Until Steve Rogers.

Until she found herself eager to get back to her bunk every night just so she could let her imagination run wild as she slipped her fingers into her slick heat.

The first time his face popped up in her mind she was surprised. So surprised, in fact, that she slowed her fingers to a stop, biting her lip and wondering where that had come from. All she could think of was his smile: his charming little smile, and without her notice her fingers began moving again, sliding against her lips and clit, teasing as she thought about his impossibly blue eyes and the way he smiled.

She came, hard, and spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, wondering what had happened.

The next night she tried to fit him into her favorite fantasy: a clandestine meeting behind the munitions building, soft touches of the hands before he pushed her up against the brick wall, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She tried to imagine him lifting her from her feet, and dissolved into a pool of giggles, thinking that she’d break the poor boy in half if she tried that with him. He was sweet and adorable, and his intense gaze made her nipples hard when he looked at her, but Peggy knew that he wasn’t strong enough to hoist her up anywhere, at any time.

The next day she tried not to think of those thoughts as she ran the group of men through calisthenics, but she couldn’t help take a peek at his ass when she walked behind them, couldn’t help but look at the crotch of his trousers as he stood at attention.

She wanted to make his cock stand at attention.

The thought hit her from left field and left her clit throbbing. She crossed her legs, hoping to relieve the painful tingle as blood rushed south, her mind conjuring up visions of what might lay under his baggy pants as she cued them to the next exercise.

Was it thick and short, like Fred’s had been?

Long and thin, like her high school boyfriend?

She’d had a one-night stand with a chap just before she’d met Fred, and his cock curved, long and thick and heavy in her hand.

Peggy couldn’t help but lick her lips, her mouth suddenly dry as her brain wondered if he was circumcised, and how he’d feel in her hand as she pumped him to completion across her chest.

They were on their backs now, Steve trying and failing horribly to complete sit ups. She imagined stepping over, sitting across his hips, and grinding on him like a teenager. She thanked god for the thick army issue clothes as she felt her panties soak through at the thought of taking him, then and there. Sinking down on his dick, long but thin she’d decided, rocking back and forth with her hands on his chest, rubbing herself on him, his dick inside her, his little breathy moans under her.

The whole garrison watching.

Those damn meatheads who joked about her being a prude being shown they were wrong, the ones who wanted her to choke on their dicks jealous that she picked Steve. That she chose Steve.

The image left her breathless, and wanting. It didn’t help that all she could hear were Steve’s little grunts as they flipped and moved on to push-ups. His breathless sounds were exactly how she imagined he’d sound under her.

Peggy wanted to make him breathless. She wanted to make him moan. She wanted to take his cock in her mouth and leave a ring of a red lipstick in the curls at the base.

From then on, he was her favorite nighttime subject.

Her usual fantasies had to be thrown out the window. He couldn’t lift her, couldn’t hold her down with his weight. But she did like to imagine him being forceful: ordering her to slide off her panties from under her uniform and sliding his thin, beautiful fingers up inside her. She liked to imagine him taking her in missionary, something she rarely fantasized about, because she liked the idea of wrapping herself around him, of feeling his whole body pressed up against hers and his full body weight pressing down on her when he’s finished. She imagined he undresses her slow, takes his time. She imagined he would take her with his mouth, slowly and carefully, raking his fingers over her thighs and through her curls, nipping and biting and finding out what she liked before covering every inch with his tongue. Swirling and sucking, his big, blue eyes looking up at her as she played with her own nipples, a slim finger, then two entering her, curling up, pumping in and out, his inquisitive mind trying things and learning quick until she was panting under him.

That was her favorite fantasy.

Her brain told her that he’d be shy about his body, his thin frame and his hip bones sticking out.

It made her want to lick every inch of him all the more.

The day he got the flag down was the day she decided she’ll have him, one way or another. The way he smiled at her from the back of the jeep sent shivers down her spine and to her clit. She rode back with her legs crossed, cursing and loving each and every bump in the road.

When she saw him dive on the grenade, intent on saving them all, selfless and sure, she was done for. She came hard that night, biting her pillow to keep from screaming his name as her fingers worked her sensitive flesh furiously.

She knew Phillips was against picking him, and that worked well for her plans. If he was discharged, she could ask him out. She could take him back to the little apartment off base that some of the girls shared to get some time away, she could lick him from ear to ankle and ride him until he came on the threadbare sofa. When they discharged him, she could have her way with that man and his gorgeous little smirks, his can-do attitude, and his persistence.

Then they picked him.

She barely had three days before he would be undergoing the procedure.

Erskine had, very clearly, told everyone involved that there was a chance of death, and yet they’d all signed up.

He’d signed up.

She lay in bed the night they chose him, hand sitting between her legs but unmoving. She felt no joy thinking that he might have only days to live. That she’d never be able to kiss the cocky smile off his lips or slip her hands in his pants to cup his balls and hear him squeak and moan in surprise pleasure.

She took her hand from her panties and brought her thumbnail to her teeth, worrying it as she stared at the ceiling.

A fitful sleep, and a long day of planning for the procedure, left her frustrated and tired the next night. She knew if she could get off she’d feel better, sleep better, but the worry was still there. She worried that her Steve, somewhere along the way she’d come to think of him as _her_ Steve, would be hurt or lost in the experiment.

She closed her eyes and slipped her hand under the blanket, letting her fingers rest there, her other hand drifting over her breast. She tried to call up all sorts of fantasies, with and without Steve, but none of them worked. She tried one last time, taking a deep breath and letting the fantasy haze over her.

_She shows up in his barracks in her robe and nothing else. He is the only one there. She gets on her knees and starts to unbuckle his belt, followed by his pants. He stutters, telling her she doesn’t have to, that he can’t ask her to do that. She smiles, bright red lipstick fresh on her lips, and cups him through the fabric. He moans and his objections are lost. She slides his pants down skinny legs. The thin, blonde hair is sparse, and she runs her nails through it, making him shiver. He’s throbbing, more than half hard. She stands, taking his shirt off and tossing it aside. She licks her lips before sucking a tiny, pink nipple in her mouth, her hand going to his cock as she feels it bobbing against her thigh. She pumps over him gently, slipping his nipple through her teeth before taking the other, her strokes getting more insistent. She kneels, and in one motion takes him in her mouth. She moves back and forth, one hand at his base, the other gently cradling his balls, and he moans. She makes him breathless as she swirls her tongue over the head, tickling that spot just under the tip that she knows is so, so sensitive before taking him as deep as she can go again. Over and over she repeats it, keeping a slow and steady pace. She starts to squeeze him at the base tighter, her hands more insistent as she moves quicker, sucking harder, letting her tongue press against him from base to tip over and over again, finally sucking at just the head until he grabs her shoulders, a stuttered warning coming from the back of his throat just before he comes, spilling his warmth in her mouth and down the back of her throat, over her chin and trickling down to her chest as she lets him fall from her lips._

Peggy came hard, her walls spasming against her fingers, her hand tight on the mound of her breast as she tried to keep from crying out, teeth biting herd into her lip.

She tried to force her ragged breathing to slow. She was shaking, and knew this would not help her sleeping problem.

She wanted to get up and go right then, her heart pounding in her chest and the adrenaline in her system made her brave. She wanted to undress him and let her red nails roll over his ribs, each and every skinny, exposed rib. She wanted to kiss his hip bones and press him back into bed. She wanted to see his face when she sat over him, naked. She wanted to know what it felt like for those fingers to pinch at her nipples, what it would feel like for him to pull and twist and suck on them as she rode him hard. She wanted to know if the sounds he made in basic, the grunts and moans and sighs, are the same sounds he’d make if she took him in her mouth and in her pussy.

Before she could lose her nerve she got up, wiping her fingers on her slip and throwing on the uniform she’d laid out for tomorrow. She pulled her pins out in a hurry and only bothered with eye liner and the red lipstick. Her boots took so long to tie she nearly changed her mind.

She was moving before she could stop herself, and found herself at his barracks, now alone that he’s been picked for the project, far quicker than she imagined.

She stood, staring at the door, fists clenching and unclenching, when the door opened.

Steve startled when he saw her there. “Agent Carter?”

She set her shoulders, determined and far calmer than she felt inside. “May I come in?”

He opened the door wide, even though it was late and dark and if they were caught it could be curtains for both of them. He was far too polite to tell a superior office she couldn’t join him. She could see by the way he squared his shoulders he expects her visit will be about the project, something serious.

Well, this was serious, but in a far different way.

“How can I help you?” He asked in his trousers, undershirt, and stocking feet. His bed was mussed, like he’d just been in and hopped out.

“I’m here on… on a private matter,” she said softly. Peggy licked her lips out of nervousness and couldn’t help but feel a thrill when his eyes dipped down at them.

“Oh?” he asked gently, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yes,” she continued, trying to smile. “Quite unofficial, actually.” She turned away from him, hands fidgeting as she paced. She found she was much more nervous now with his bright blue eyes boring into her. “So unofficial that it could get me sacked, really.”

Steve tipped his head in confusion. “Agent—”

“Peggy, please,’ she corrected him, turning to look in his eyes. “I quite like you,” she blurted out.

His eyes grew wide, his shoulders pulling back in surprise. “You?”

“Yes. Is that so unbelievable?”

“Well, I mean a dame, no a girl- a _woman_ like yourself,” he corrected himself, stuttering over and over again, and she felt a buzzing between her legs as a blush crept up his cheeks. “I’m just…”

“You’re just kind of wonderful, I think,” she filled in, moving closer. “And I needed you to know that before all of this continues.”

He smiled at her, radient. “That’s... I… I’m sweet on you, too.”

His confession warmed her from the inside out, emboldened her. “Then, perhaps, you’ll indulge me?”

He chuckled, and she thought maybe this was the most endearing she’d ever seen him. “I’m inclined to do anything you want right now,” he answered, somehow making it both flirty and a little self-deprecating.

“Oh, don’t say that yet,” she warned in a low, soft voice.

“Is this the part that could get you sacked?”

She smiled. “If we do it right.”

~*~

She spent that night in his bed, learning that he was respectably both average and thick, heavy in her hand but he prefers her mouth and she was happy to indulge. When he slipped inside her he felt like heaven and having his full body weight on hers when he finished felt like the best thing she’s ever known. He was unpracticed, and they fumbled more often than not, but when she came to him the second night things flowed smoother. He licked at her nipples like a dying man scouring the dessert for water, making her writhe under him. His eyes grew wide as saucers, watching her breasts bounce in the moonlight over him as she rode him. He watched her orgasm twice under his fingers, learning quickly where and how she liked to be touched.

She was shaking, from the thrill and the fear, as she left him that next morning to get changed, only to meet him at the front gate, ready to escort him to Howard’s laboratory.

Her heart pounded as she watched him in the pod, as she listened to him scream in a way she’s never heard and hopes to never hear again.

When he stepped out, she couldn’t help herself. She needed to touch him, needed to feel him under her fingers, needed to know he was alive and still the skinny, adorable man she’d fallen in love with.

She remembered herself, her station, and their location, before she managed to make a total fool of herself.

Her heart pounded in a different way now. His fingers were still long and thin but stronger and thicker, his chest was so broad she could curl up on it and stay there for days. His thighs and legs, his arms, every piece of him was stronger and larger and she felt conflicted as all of the blood in her brain started to rush south. She was already mourning the loss of his thin touch, the exposed ribs, the bumps of his spine under her fingers.

But she looked him over again, and knew that her fantasy about getting lifted in his arms and taken hard and fast against the brick wall behind the munitions tent was absolutely a real possibility now.


End file.
